


A Righteous Vassal and His Emperor

by FatalTie



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Drabble, M/M, it's weird sorry, not sexy spit, spit, uh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5725957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatalTie/pseuds/FatalTie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of drabbles for Mikida. Unconnected unless other mentioned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bad Word

**Author's Note:**

> Some place to drop drabbles on the rare occasion that I write them. Featuring exclusively the pairing Mikida, but might have other appearances from other characters.

“Mikado, say it.”

“ _No._ ”

Masaomi throws his hands up in the air, huffing.

“Why not?!”

Mikado turns away, adjusting the strap of his bag. He’s moves hurriedly away from his friend, Masaomi falling behind him.

“Why does it matter?” he grumbles, feeling an uncomfortable heat crawl into his cheeks.

Masaomi whines behind him adjusting his pace to catch up to Mikado.

“I just wanna hear you say it! It’s not a big deal,” he falls into pace next him, “Come on! Say it with me!”

Masaomi steps in front of Mikado, effectively blocking him.

“ _Fuck._ ”

The warmth shoots up to Mikado’s ears.

He sidesteps around his friend, half jogging now, “There’s no reason to!”

Masaomi whines behind him, “Mikadoooooooo!”

It goes on for nearly the whole walk home, Mikado vehemently denying Masaomi’s every plea to get him to get him curse. It’s not that Mikado really has a problem with cursing in and of itself but it was just embarrassing to just drop one just because Masaomi thought it was funny. Sure he didn’t really use them that often but would it really be that amusing if he did?

Masaomi sure seems to think so.

He’s practically dancing around Mikado now, feeling a little bolder now that as they near Mikado’s apartment the number of people on the street has dwindled.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, f u c k, come on Mikado!”

No one seems to be paying them any mind but Mikado feels a little mortified all the same.

“Okay, okay stop it!” He hisses, trying to shove his hand over Masaomi’s mouth. Unfortunately his friend dodges with ease, laughing all the while.

“I’ll stop when you say it~” He sings.

“… I’ll say it when we get home,” Mikado huffs, wringing the strap of his bag between his hands.

“No!” Masaomi crosses his arms, failing miserably to look serious, “Say it now or I’ll keep going!”

Mikado fixes him with a pointed glare, mouth pulled into a tight frown. He takes a moment take a look around the street, and for the most part they are alone. He feels a little childish, making a big deal out of something so small but Masaomi had made him feel so self-conscious about it.

Once Mikado felt there was enough distance between them and the one other person on the street, he puts on a tight smile.

“Masaomi…”

His friend continues to look at MIkado so _cheekily_.

“ **Fuck** you.”

Mikado is not surprised at the shocked look Masaomi’s face, feeling a just a bit smug, but he also expects that his friend will laugh.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he gets very very red.

Masaomi coughs awkwardly into his hand.

“I’m hurt you’d say that Mikado!” He smiles, finally chuckling just a bit, “And maybe just a _little_ aroused.”

Mikado feels his own face heat up, choking a little on his words, “O-Oh… well…”

Later that night Mikado finds he’s much more easily persuaded to say the _filthiest things_ when he’s muttering them into Masaomi’s ear.


	2. Don't Lick The Spoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something about Masaomi's annoying antics that brings out Mikado's competitive side. Unbeta'ed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen. This one's kinda gross.... there's a lot of spit involved. And it is not sexy. Uhm. Yeah. So if spit is kinda of gross to you I would not recommend this.

Mikado could pinpoint the exact moment that lead to the most embarrassing 30 seconds of his entire life.

Masaomi stood font and center for both.

As Karisawa-san screeches while clutching Kadota’s arm in a vice grip, Mikado reflects ahhh yes…

Everything is Masaomi’s fault.

The moment that eventually lead to Mikado wanting to throw himself in front of the nearest bus, had in fact happened only a few weeks ago.

Masaomi wanted to bake some brownies.

An innocent enough request. The two of them had gone to the store bought some box mix and went back to Mikado’s apartment to make them. When they had finished mixing the batter Masaomi had suddenly snatched the spoon from his hand, licked it clean, and just plopped it right back into the batter.

Mikado had of course expressed how _disgusting_ that was, but Masaomi had waved him off,

“It’s not a big deal,” He’d said, “It’s not like you haven’t had my spit in your mouth before anyway.”

And he laughed, going back to stirring the batter.

Mikado had fumed for a little bit over it, but in the end what was done was done.

Besides, frustrating as it may be, Masaomi wasn’t _wrong_.

But swapping spit while you’re making out and spitting in your friend’s food were two totally different things!

Right?

Masaomi didn’t seem to think so.

The next moment happened just a day later.

They were down to their last two brownies and they were arguing over who would get the middle piece and who would get the corner piece. Neither of them were budging until Masaomi decided he would use the age old tactic marking things as your own.

And licked the middle brownie.

“Do you still want the middle piece, Mikado?” He’d said, smug.

Mikado had been ready to throttle the other boy from sheer aggravation, before he remembered that a mere thirty minutes ago Masaomi’s tongue had been fairly intimate with the inside of mouth.

So what if there was little spit on it?

And he had snatched it right out of Masaomi’s hand and scarfed it down before the other boy had time to process that his plan had miserably failed.

“W-woah, hey, Mikado!”

Mikado swallowed the last bit of _delicious_ brownie,

“‘ _It’s not like I haven’t had your spit in my mouth before,’_ right?”

At the time it had been pretty satisfying to see the shocked look on Masaomi’s face.

But it had all been downhill from there.

For some reason Masaomi had taken that as a _challenge_ of sorts.

And though Mikado would insist to anyone that asked that it was Masaomi’s fault that it had escalated, he for some reason just couldn’t back down. His friend was unbearably good at bring out Mikado’s competiveness.

The last few weeks Masaomi kept pushing the boundary, seeing what it would take for Mikado to finally back off.

Licking the part of his food wasn’t enough to deter Mikado, so he tried licking the entire surface area of a cookie they had gotten from a bakery a few days later. When that didn’t work Masaomi tried slobbering over various food, thinking that maybe if he increased the sheen of spit it would stop Mikado.

Mikado wished he could say it did.

It didn’t.

He just couldn’t stop himself, _Masaomi started this!_

Recently Masaomi had drooled into his soup when Mikado had his back turn for a moment. He had turned back around just in time see the glob spit plop into the soup.

Mikado had given him a dead eyed stare and drank it, relishing in the flinch of disgust on Masaomi’s face.

_(“That was gross, Masaomi.”_

_“You’re the one who drank it, buddy.”)_

And then today, oh _today._

They went out to Russia Sushi for lunch and happened to run into the van gang. Since they were all there, naturally they decided to all sit together and catch up. A quick text to Sonohara and she arrived just a little after the first round of food came out. It was pretty fun, since they hadn’t all gotten together in a while.

And then Masaomi took his last piece of tuna.

Swiped it right out of his chopsticks.

“Masaomi!”

“Hmm?”

It dangled between Masaomi’s chopsticks and Mikado made a move to grab it.

It was already too late.

Masaomi opened his stupid, gaping mouth, stuck out his tongue and draped his _last piece of tuna on his gross, stupid tongue._

And Mikado didn’t think before snatching it off the offensive appendage and quickly popping it in his mouth. He huffed and glared at Masaomi while his friend just stared.

Honestly it wasn’t as bad as some of Masaomi’s other offensives, so Mikado didn’t really understand why Masaomi seemed so shocked.

And then he watched Masaomi’s eyes twitch away from him to look towards…

Their audience.

There’s strange chorus of noises of disgust and (happy?) screeching.

Masaomi’s crying laughter joins in, face scorching red.

Sonohara is too nice to say anything, but the weird look she gives him says it all, hand delicately covering her mouth.

Yes, all of this is _Masaomi’s fault_.

Later that night it’s the first time in a long time Mikado refuses to let Masaomi into his apartment.

(Until Masaomi has apologizes a hundred times over and starts trying to serenade him outside his door.)

((They end up making out again, and Mikado thinks he should probably address the fact that maybe best friends don’t normally do that someday.))


	3. Prove It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things had become decidedly… flirty between the two of them. Or at least. He thinks. Masaomi tended to be a rather flirtatious person by nature, but he had always been adamant that his charms were only meant for ‘the ladies'. But if that's the case why would he send a picture like THAT?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boop another unbeta'ed drabble because I'm too impatient.

❤ _**Masaomi** _ ❤ _So i’ve been thinkin bout hitting the gym lately_

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _Gotta maintain this hot bod ya know_

Mikado snorts, leaning a little more in the hand supporting his chin. It’s a little late into the evening, Mikado having just finished up his homework for the night. He had been dutifully ignoring his phone until now, not wanting to distract himself from getting everything done.

Masaomi was by far the biggest distraction he had.

His hand slips out from under his chin and he leans down to rest his cheek on the still open text book on his desk. He thumbs of the keys of his phone thoughtfully.

_Who put hearts next to his name?_

The name is question seems like the obvious culprit, but when on earth did Masaomi do it?

Mikado thinks of changing it, but decides against it; he finds he doesn’t _really_ mind. It’s kind of cute actually, thinking of Masaomi putting little hearts in his phone. He wonders if there’s any next to his in Masaomi’s phone.

**_Mikado:_ ** _You look fine_

**_Mikado:_ ** _don’t gyms normally have membership fees any fair_

He scoots out from under his desk and rolls right onto his futon, still un-made and out from this morning. He had woken up late that morning and hadn’t had the chance to put it away like usual, but it’s kind of convenient now. It’s a little early for sleep but it feels nice to relax. His phone goes off in his hand again.

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _u make a fair point Mikado!_

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _maybe i could just buy sum weights…_

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _thanks for the compliment (_ _づ￣_ _³￣)_ _づ_

A familiar warmth crawls up the back of his neck as Mikado nervously fiddles with his phone.

It seemed like Masaomi and him had been toeing the line lately?

Things had become decidedly… _flirty_ between the two of them. Or at least. He thinks. Masaomi tended to be a rather flirtatious person by nature, but he had always been adamant that his charms were only meant for ‘the ladies’… though he… he was definitely flirting with him right? Mikado was pretty sure there was something more to it.

Pretty sure.

His phone starts to go off again,

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _i know u think im fine mikado_

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _ur rite i dont need 2 work out_

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _no need 2 b shy mikado, pls tell me how hot i make u_

Mikado feels a flicker of irritation,

**_Mikado:_ ** _you know actually, you have started looking a little flabby lately…_

The response is immediate and _satisfying_. Masaomi sends him a flurry of messages, one after the other, full of indignant squawking. Mikado curls in on himself, crying with laughter, and it’s a wonder really how despite not being in the room it feels like Masaomi is right next to him.

The barrage of texts are varying in degrees of mock-angry protests and finally they slow to a stop after a minute or so.

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _i’ll have u know I am extremely fit Mikado!!_

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _how dare u imply otherwise!!!!_

Mikado twitches to respond but he stops himself. He knows what he wants to say but the thought of sending it starts a nervous flutter in his stomach.

The keys click loudly in the suddenly too quiet room.

He’s getting little tired of walking on this thread-like line.

**_Mikado:_ ** _prove it then_

He doesn’t get an immediate response and Mikado feels the start of cold sweat on the back of his neck.

He sets his phone down after 2 or 3 minutes of radio silence and stares up at his ceiling.

Should he say something? Play it off like a joke?

He’s waited too long now it’ll look _weird_.

Fifteen minutes pass and Mikado is all but panicking.

What had he expected?

Okay well he knew what he had been _hoping_ for—

His phone dings.

Mikado scrambles to grab his phone, nearly dropping it in his hurrying.

From the small preview in his phone Mikado sees that Masaomi has sent him a _picture_ and god even in its tiny pixelated form Mikado’s heart is already racing.

If he’s being honest he figure Masaomi would send him a picture more along the lines of humorous than sexy but when he opens the message he’s so very wrong.

Masaomi cropped out the majority of his face, but even so Mikado recognizes his black jeans, hanging low on his hips and the chain of his wallet from his pocket.

The bare expanse of his chest is new sight though.

If Mikado wasn’t so terribly infatuated he would probably be pretty frustrated by how _good_ Masaomi looks (and he is a little).

Masaomi wasn’t ripped by any means, but the flat planes of his chest are still enticing in ways Mikado can’t really place. There’s faintly the starts of a four-pack, nicely shown off by the lighting from where ever Masaomi took the photo. Based on what Mikado thinks is a pillow behind his friend’s back, he ventures that it’s his bed. He kind of hopes it is.

It’s so _appealing_ thinking of Masaomi on his bed posing for him.

He reaches down to palm himself through his pants.

Masaomi looks achingly good.

He’s still admiring the photo when another text pops up.

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _like what u see Mikado?? ;)_

For a moment Mikado thinks about making Masaomi squirm and wait for a response likw he had to. He thinks better of it though. He thumbs out quick response, his other hand slipping underneath this pants.

**_Mikado:_ ** _yeah_

**_Mikado:_ ** _I do_

He goes back to the photo and thinks about saving it, not dwelling on the lack of an immediate response. Masaomi had put _effort_ into his photo to make it look good. They’ve already skipped pretty far over the line at this point.

He definitely wants to save the photo but it’s clear Masaomi doesn’t care about just going through his phone and he doesn’t know if could deal with the teasing if his friend found it—

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _do u wanna touch it? ;) ;)_

That throws Mikado for a loop. Honestly he kind of just wants to stare at that photo some more but well—

**_Mikado:_ ** _yeah?_

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _?? unsure??_

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _what would u do if I was there??_

Mikado stares blankly at the message. Did Masaomi want to… sext or something? His hand was still down his pants but it wasn’t quite as distracting now.

**_Mikado:_ ** _uh… touch you I guess?_

Oh… that wasn’t very good was it?

His phone starts ringing, Masaomi’s name blinking up at him. He answers, feeling himself flush.

“MIKADO! Do you even know how to sext someone?!”

Okay so that _was_ what was happening.

“Shut up! I didn’t know if that’s what was happening!”

“Wasn’t it obvious? You started it!”

“No I… I… I guess I kind of did.”

There’s an uncomfortable beat of silence. Mikado awkwardly pulls his hand out of his pants, as Masaomi sighs on the other end of the line.

“Did… you not mean it that way?”

Mikado rolls onto his stomach,

“I wouldn’t say… that…”

It goes quiet again and even though it’s clear something is happening here he can’t quite get rid of the tingling anxiety in the back of his mind.

“… Mikado, can I come over?”

Mikado flushes.

“Um, s-sure?”

He wrings his pillowcase in his fingers.

“’Kay! See you soon!”

He hangs up and Mikado scrolls back up to the picture and saves it. He’ll put it on his computer later. In the meantime he’ll take advantage of his alone time while he can…

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _u better make good on ur words and touch me real good when i get there Mikado_

❤ **_Masaomi_** ❤ _;)_

On second thought, he can wait.


End file.
